Layout Notes for 15 min set, for Valley Gardens Fund Raiser, 6th July 2025. 1:15 pm to 1:30pm

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Layout Notes for 15 min set, for Valley Gardens Fund Raiser, 6th July 2025. 1:15 pm to 1:30pm

Brief: Attempted to be “Family Friendly” yet still emotionally moving and relevant to the local area where possible.

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Target time 15 mins.

Actual time in rehearsal: 15 mins 12 seconds

As Live practice recorded time: XX mins and XX seconds

(Not yet done – But when done that recording will be posted on all my usual social media sites.)

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Flashbacks, Nightmares, and Romance

By

Ross E F Lombardi

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The dinner had been lovely.

The music was soft.

The kissing was eager.

The passionate hunger in both of them rising over.

Just as the glorious sun was setting over the northern grey ocean.

As her hand clawed beneath his shirt in her heated fuelled desire.

STOP!

She suddenly froze and felt cold.

She winced and felt ill.

As shame that should not be hers to carry washed icy over her.

.

His head tilted slightly.

“Flashbacks?”

He asked quietly.

She nodded and melted into his arms.

He shifted and angled his hips in his seat, slightly from her.

“Sorry,” She whispered.

He said nothing but stoked her hair and pulled her in so very gently.

And she knew she was safe.

The sex may have been killed for tonight.

But

There were no demands from him here.

Only love.

.

The bed had been lovely.

The night was soft.

The mattress was comfortable.

The relaxed breathing of them settled over the room.

Just as the crescent moon was setting over the northern purple moors.

As his soul had reached beneath his mind in a restful slumber.

STOP!

He sat bolt upright and felt a murderous rage.

He winced and felt ill.

As a shame that should not be his to carry scolded hot over him.

.

She stirred from her sleep.

“Nightmares?”

She asked quietly.

He nodded and looked away from her.

She gently kept her distance to carefully avoid his body memory violence.

“Sorry,” He whispered.

She said nothing but made him a hot coffee and sat with him so very gently.

And he believed, until dawn, that he was not a monster.

The sleep may have been killed for tonight.

But

There were no demands from her here.

Only love.

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Their lives had been terrible.

The Trauma was deep.

The relationship, - difficult.

Awkward compromises ruling over both of them.

Just as the stolen moments by evil memories threatened to ruin what was left of their little lives.

As mind mirrors claw beneath both their skins, - in tortured-filled flashbacks and nightmares.

STOP!

They had found comfort in each other.

- They would always have scars.

As burdens that should not be theirs to carry - dragged them down toward hell.

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Through him.

She could get back

- Some of what some self-appointed soldier gangsters brutally stole, by force for decades.

Through her.

He could get let go, sometimes,

- Of what some politician speechmaker forced on him, by law for decades.

In her,

- he had found a reason not to kill.

In him,

- she had found a reason to keep alive.

She knew that decent sleep WAS a need.

But romance and knowing you were loved was worth This sacrifice!

He knew that sex was NOT a need.

But romance and knowing that you were loved – WAS!

A good quality of life may have been killed forever.

But

There were no demands from either of them.

No harsh unfair judgment, - in this harsh judgemental world.

Only romantic love.

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2.44 mins

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AGAIN.

- A song.

By Ross Lombardi

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I feel the pain

Shuffling under my skin

I want to know

Were you end and I begin

.

And I know

This is so

Pathetic that I can't win

I feel the death

Of a good part of me inside

.

Shuffling

Shuffling…

…Under my skin

.

Shuffling

Shuffling…

…Under my skin

.

Shuffling

Shuffling…

…Under my skin

.

I feel the need

Creeping in my heart again

I want to know

And end to this beating pain

.

And I know

This is so

Creepy of me again

.

I feel the pain

Shuffling under my skin

.

Creeping

Creeping

Creeping in my heart

.

Creeping

Creeping

Creeping in my heart

.

Creeping

Creeping

Creeping in my heart

.

Feel the want

Of hearing your voice again

I want to smell

The taste of your hair again

.

And I know

This is so

SO - Wrong of me to feel

.

I feel the need.

Creeping in my heart again

.

Hearing

Hearing

Hearing your voice again

.

Hearing

Hearing

Hearing your voice again

.

Hearing

Hearing

Hearing your voice again

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I feel the death

Of a good part of me inside

And I know

That something's not quite right

.

And I know

This is so

Like putting out a light

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I feel the want

Of hearing your voice again

.

Good part

Good part

Good part inside

.

Good part

Good part

Good part inside

.

Good part

Good part

Good part inside

.

*

I feel the pain

Shuffling under my skin

I want to know

Were you end and I begin

.

And I know

This is so

Pathetic that I can't win

.

I feel the death

Of a good part of me inside

.

Shuffling

Shuffling…

…Under my skin

.

Shuffling

Shuffling…

…Under my skin

.

Shuffling

Shuffling…

…Under my skin

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5.35 

SALT WALL BURNING.

By

Ross E F Lombardi

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On this wall.

This wall of Salburn,

Of this town of Salburn-by-the-Sea.

On this wall.

Where the woman who once loved me,

Once waited,

Once waited here for me.

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In this damned wall,

This wall of pain.

This Salty Burn by an acidic memory Sea.

My imagination haunts me.

As she now holds another man,

Another man in her arms.

A man who is not me.

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My self-flagellating, cruel mind will,

Rip my heart and soul.

Tears - a tear from eye.

A constant gut-repeated punch,

That will not let be.

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For I know.

No one now,

Will ever mourn,

Or ever wait again,

Wait again for me.

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6.18 min

“My Love”

A song

By Ross E F Lombardi

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It’s a cold Wet Morning

I’m no longer with you.

It’s a cold Wet Morning, My Love.

The Sun May be Shining.

And the Ice Cream Melting

It’s Still a Cold Wet Morning, My Love.

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It’s a Hard Lonely Time

You’re No Longer with me

It’s a Hard Lonely Time, My Love.

The Night May Seem Fine,

My Feet May Be Dancing,

It’s Still a Hard Lonely Pain, My Love.

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And though we don’t belong together,

And can never be together,

I’m Still Going to Miss You, My Love.

- I'll never again - Kiss You

Never again - Hold you.

I’ll Still Forever Miss You, My Love.

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The Smile I Make is Fake

I’m Just trying to be brave.

This Smile I Make I Fake, My Love.

And though I laugh and joke,

It’s just an act.

Inside I’m In tears, My Love.

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It’s a Cold Grey Dawn

It’s a Dull Grey Morning.

It’s a Cold Gey Morning, My Love.

And It may be Mid-Day

And I might seem ok,

It’s Still a cold grey day, My Love

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And though We Can Never Be Together

And Don’t Belong Together,

I am still going to miss you, My Love.

- I’ll Never Hold you Again,

Part of me – Is Still with you.

The Best part of me, My Love.

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When I wash and shave.

It seems such a waste.

It seems such a waste of my time. My Love.

Because if it’s Not for You.

Then who the hell is it for?

If it Can’t be for You, My Love!

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When a Pretty Woman Smiles

It’s Just a smile to me.

When a Pretty Woman Smiles at me, My Love.

Although I’m Now Single,

IT still feels like cheating,

Her smile, Is just a smile for me, My Love.

.

And though we don’t belong together,

And Can Never Be Together,

I’m Still going to Miss You, My Love.

- The best part of Me’s with you,

So hard to move on.

I’m honestly trying to move on, My Love.

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All the small things are empty,

My life is so empty,

The small things are all empty, My Love.

The Coffee May Be Warm

And the Flavour, Strong,

But all the Small things are Empty, My Love.

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Life lacks meaning,

I miss the Love - I was Feeling,

Life Lacks Any Meaning, My Love.

And although I try to care,

Without you there,

Life lacks any meaning, for me, My Love.

.

And though we can never Be Together,

And don’t belong together,

I’m Still going to miss you, My Love.

It’s Hard to Move on,

As, - I’ll Never Kiss You Again,

I Need to let You GO For Good! - My Love!

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8.51

The flat next door.

By Ross E F Lombardi.

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They party all night.

The noise keeps me awake.

But I do not feel mad.

.

They party all night.

So I can not sleep.

But it just makes me so very deeply sad.

.

They live all night,

I lie awake knowing,

I do not belong anywhere,

That such togetherness type can never be me.

.

They get to be human all night.

While my icy isolation,

Is the proper natural order of things.

It is the way it's supposed to be.

.

They party all night.

Laughing, singing and being.

Reminding me of a life of "liked",

That I can never have.

St 8.51

L 33

Tot 9.24 

We All Gotta Gonna

By

Ross E F Lombardi

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We all gotta suffer

For those that wanna thrill

We all gonna die

For those that wanna kill

.

We all gonna suffer

For those that wanna thrill

We all gotta die

For those that wanna kill

.

For I…

Am just one of those random people

Going from birth n’ life, n’ deed pole

No one’s gonna help us now…

.

For I…

Cannot be saved

Going from birth n’ life, n’ grave

No one’s gonna help us now…

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We all gotta suffer

For those that wanna thrill

We all gonna die

For those that wanna kill

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We all gotta march

Up the Duke of York’s hill

We must kill those,

They tell us all to kill

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For I…

Am just one of those normal people

Going from birth n’life, n’ deed pole

No one’s gonna help us now…

.

For I…

Cannot be saved

Going from barracks n’ life, n’ grave

No one can spare us now…

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We all gotta suffer

For those that wanna thrill

We all gotta die

For those that wanna kill

.

We all gotta suffer

For those that know we’re wrongl

We all gotta die

For those that wanna us gone

.

For I…

Cannot be saved

Going from birth n’ life, n’ grave

No one’s gonna help us now…

.

For I…

Am just one of those flocking sheeple

Going from doors n’ church n’ steeple

No Gods gonna save us now...

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We all gonna suffer

For those that wanna thrill

We all gotta die

For those that wanna kill

.

We all gotta suffer

For those that wanna thrill

We all gonna die

For those that wanna kill

.

For I…

Am just one of those random people

Going from birth n’ life, n’ deed pole

No one’s gonna help ME now…

.

For we…

Are are just a bunch of people

Going from birth n’ life, n’ deed pole

Do you know who you are now…?

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St 9.24

L 2.04

Tot 11.28

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THEY DO NOT LIVE HERE!

By Ross E F Lombardi.

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"This Cat?"

"This Cat is not ours"

"This Cat does not really live here..."

"They just visit!"

"Yes!"

"We do open the door for them"

"Yes"

"He does like his own spot to sleep on"

"Yes"

"We do put a cushion on that spot to keep things tidy"

"Yes"

"We feed them"

"Yes,"

"We Did get them their own bowl to save us using the human dishes"

"Yes"

"We did do the same for their water, for common sense hygiene reasons"

"Well, Yes,"

"We did start getting a tiny bit of their own food,"

"We were shopping anyway and the food was kinda just there, so why not?"

"Ok, Yes,"

"They did not like that food so now we get him the slightly nicer special food"

"Well, Of course.."

"They have a few cheap toys!"

"It was the anniversary of when we first met, so I was going to get a tiny present"

"That does not mean anything!"

"Ok, true"

"We did get some vet insurance"

"But only the middle tier, nothing extravagant!

"Yes, but you are not listening to me..."

"They do NOT live here!"

"This is NOT their home!"

"I know, I know, but you don't understand! They are NOT my cat"

"Ok, we will have to agree to disagree like reasonable adults on this subject..."

"I'll catch you next time.."

"You will have to let yourself out... I need to stay here..."

"Why?"

"Because the Cat is on my lap!"

"Don't condescendingly roll your eyes at me!"

"The Cat does NOT live here...!!!"

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St 11.28

L 1.19

Tot 12.47

Saltburn Sunset

By

Ross Lombardi

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Who smudged pink paint across the sky?

Above the scab that is the land.

.

Where factory towers loom high,

Where the sea licks the sand.

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How long must the sun bleed its light?

Squeezed between clouds of grey.

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An awe-inspiring, Beautiful sight,

When the night meets the day.

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Nature or God used his palette knife here,

In uneven steaks of pink

The sky and sea are similar shades of grey

Boring, predictable.

.

Then there is that slash across the canvas,

A cut, A wound, A sunset.

Happens again each birth and death of day.

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Painted, born.

Burns, lives.

Bleeds, dies.

And slowly fades away.

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St 12.47

L 42

Tot 13.29

De Broken Knee!

By Ross E F Lombardi

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Her dark-fire burns brightly.

Her bleeding soul calls out to me.

.

I want to hold her.

Heal her.

Be the person that she needs.

Needs me to be.

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Her dark-fire burns brightly.

Her burning eyes call out to me.

.

But two toxins combined.

Two poisons mixed.

Never make a cure.

Trying to mend her, will not mend me.

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Her dark-fire freezes brightly.

Her scorching strength summons me.

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I deeply admire this powerful woman.

This limping warrior.

I think of her too often.

This someone I do not want to look forward to,

- so much,

- to see.

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Her dark-fire boils wildly.

Evaporating common sense from me.

.

In case it is not obvious yet,

I could so easily,

- so deeply

– fall in love with this beautiful storm.

But let me make it clear,

To lose myself completely in who she is.

Would be an extraordinarily - bad idea.

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Her dark-fire burns brightly.

Her bleeding soul calls out to me.

.

Her raven-haired passion scalds me

I’d have her capture me,

- To set herself free.

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She pops into my silly mind unbidden.

Every few, couple of days.

I do not need to like someone this much,

So, for my sake.

I hope this stupid attraction fades.

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St 13.29

L 1.12

Tot 14.41

How the valley garden died.

By

Ross E F Lombardi

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Although with a passion...

They sowed the seeds

They gathered and weeded

They care for the flower bed

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But there were costs to meet

Expenditures to complete

Money not just passion -

To keep the cash balance - out of the red.

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Now it is gone

The weeds rule the plots

The grass is crappy

And,

All the flowers are dead

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As when it came to the giving

To fiscal practicalities needed

Everyone thought

Everyone else

Would do it instead.

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St 14.41

L 31

Tot 15.12

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RESERVE POEMs (IF the audience askes for more and I am allowed)

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On A Cliff…

By

Ross E F Lombardi

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The Ocean is Angry

Stare into the midnight storm

Face stings Frozen

Darkest void Screaming Rage - Roar – Howl!

Above yet defiant.

Dying in Dissent

Terror and Me.

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RESERVE POEMs (IF the audience askes for more and I am allowed)

Let Us Giggle THEN Cry

By

Ross E F Lombardi

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Quick question for our audience,

What is Wet, Salty, Foamy,

And stinks when stagnant still.

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An entire Scape of Urine type thing…

Salty, foamy, furious sea,

“Us” The People –

Refuse to bend a knee

To Neptune's Wee.

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Humans are smug, yappy pups

Despoiling the coast with our doggy droppings,

Trying to mark our tiny territory,

-And ‘Out-Alpha-Dog’ - The dragon, dire wolf, ocean.

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Salty foaming furious sea,

“We” the idiot ‘childer’ assume ownership,

That we can command,

Poseidon’s pee

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From the perspective of moon pooling, - tide pulling, - millennia

Every building we have made.

Every part of human history,

Every ounce of our self-importance…

Is just a silly sand-castle on the shore.

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We are nothing of consequence,

Our tangible disrespect –

A reflection on a moving wave,

Our arrogance fleeting,

Then our species is gone.

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